


healing waters

by cherryguts



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Crying, Takes place in the beginning of Book III, alfonse going THRU it, hug him, loving alfonse juice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22641124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryguts/pseuds/cherryguts
Summary: King Gustav reprimands Alfonse for his risky actions during a battle. Later that night, tears were spilt and you come to see what’s happening
Relationships: Alfonse & Summoner | Eclat | Kiran, Alfonse (Fire Emblem)/You, Alfonse/Summoner | Eclat | Kiran
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	healing waters

The castle of Askr was starting to settle down as the night went on, heroes chatting faintly saying goodnights with sleep evident in their voices. You were out on patrol with Laegjarn, a trusted and close hero, who also noticed the lack of heroes around the areas you both searched. With small shared smiles, you bid your farewells for the night and went your separate ways as it seemed nothing was out of the ordinary to report. You made your way to a familiar dim candle lit hallway, tired of the days long work and ready to sleep. 

Before you can even get near to your room, you hear very faint hiccups of…crying? The further you walked down the hall, it got more clear till you noticed what door you were standing in front of. _Prince Alfonse’s room_. Your fingers brushed the cold stone of the walls, not wanting to touch the door in fear he’ll hear you. You quietly stepped closer to listen inside and it was very certain that Alfonse was drowning in tears. Your brows furrowed as you thought of any possibilities that could’ve made the prince upset. With news of Hels return, you thought maybe that’s the pressure on him but…the way Alfonse cried from what you could hear was surely more than a mere burden of soldiers to kill. You closed your eyes for a second to prep yourself to go inside the prince’s room, a deep breath left you and opened your eyes once more. ‘Here goes nothing,’ you thought as you placed your hand softly on the handle.

You paused in the threshold of the door to catch the prince's eyes with your own as a surprised gasp left him. His eyes were red and puffy, cheeks flushed from the tears that left him. He wiped his eyes and tear stained cheeks with the back of his hand trying not to let out a sob, his throat feeling tight like someone was choking his very being. He only met your eyes for a fleeting blurry moment, only noticing you closing the door behind you without a sound. He didn’t know if he could speak at such a moment, everything felt so heavy. so _very_ heavy. He slouched his shoulders and stared aimlessly at the carpet on the floor. You sat next to him on his bed and laid your hand gently on his. He could feel hot tears once again threatening to spill out of him, he didn’t want them to come out now so he bit his quivering lip; his hands turning into fists to fight the urge. You noticed quickly and your eyes softened. 

“You can cry, Alfonse. You don’t have to be nervous with me.” Was all you said to him and with a short intake of breath, his body shook as warm tears fell. A sob escaped him, and he covered his eyes with his right arm. He felt nothing but a great lack of air in him. His lungs burned like he created his own burning, blistering fire. You held his hand tightly in yours, not a word slipped from you. All you did was rub your thumb in soft rotations near his shoulder to help calm him. It was better for both of you to just stay in each other’s company. 

After a few moments of letting out his cries, his head still hung low but seemed like his tears couldn’t come out anymore. You tilted your head to see his face, reaching over to his long bang and gently placed it behind his ear. Your hands were cool compared to his heated and flushed cheeks, wiping away stray tears that hid in the corner of his eyes. Alfonse turned to meet you slowly, deep emotions swirled in his tired indigo eyes. He seemed to melt into your comforting touch.

“Oh, Kiran..” Alfonse’s frail voice finally spoke up, “I…I feel like this whole time I’ve—I’ve been playing a part I’m not supposed to be in.” He stuttered, trying to keep his composure up. Thoughts of his father flashed in his mind, telling him how he isn’t a hero. That he isn’t supposed to be a prince who aimlessly swings his sword around. He grit his teeth. Just thinking back to it made his heart pound against the ghost of his lungs. 

“When my father came to our rescue, I was grateful.” He said in a hushed voice, eyes distant like he was recalling the exact moment of that time. “But when he started to tell me about how a king should hold himself… I couldn’t even say a _damn_ two words back to him!” His hands turned into fists again but they grabbed your arms now. His hair fell from its place as his pained eyes stared at the silk white bedding. You understood everything now, why Alfonse was clearly so upset. In silent understanding you let Alfonse vent to you. With a swift turn of his neck, his eyes captured yours with knit eyebrows.

“When will I know I’m truly worthy to be a king for Askr?” For a moment you sat there stunned. Alfonse held you firmly in his grip, what you see right now is a lost, broken prince in his true delicate fragility and open vulnerability. He was like a bloomed crisp white anemone flower that swayed in a fresh breeze; he looks charming in white to show his innocence but his petals too fall and get swept up by the winds that pass. 

You look straight into Alfonse’s eyes as he stares back at you with the same intensity, placing your hands under his arms. “Alfonse,” you began, “you are a growing prince with a burden of a becoming king and a brave, intelligent hero who inspires many of his comrades with just a simple smile. We couldn’t be who we are without a prince like you.” You see Alfonse’s eyes widen at what you say. He thinks so little of himself and so harsh that he disregards any compliment that’s thrown at him but right now, your sweet genuine words shot through his chest. Maybe his heart was like a harp today, any gentle pluck and it made his eyes water. 

“You are a worthy hero, prince, and soon to be king my dear Alfonse. And I’ll be here to witness all your glorious growth.” Alfonse felt weak and fell into your chest as you finished. A satisfied huff left you as you also held onto Alfonse, caressing his blue hair. 

“Don’t let me go.” A final last whisper into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> first angst with just Alfonse....WIG


End file.
